


The Special Thing

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:04:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9160564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: There's something special about Glorfindel...(edited 1/1/12017)





	

“Glorfindel! I am... home." Erestor set his pack on the floor just inside the door. He had spent a few weeks visiting friends, and returned to find Glorfindel as he left him - painting near the fire. Only, he was not exactly as he left him. "What is that?” 

Glorfindel finished a few strokes of the brush before he looked up from his work. “Is it not just great?” 

Erestor, wide-eyed and floundering for words, shrugged as he shook his head. “I... I do not know...” 

Pouting, Glorfindel leaned back in the large, comfortable chair he favored. “I really expected a much different reaction from you.” 

“Such as?” asked Erestor, still gawking. 

“You do not want to touch it?” 

“No!” Erestor frowned. “I am sorry, that was rude. It is just... why?” Erestor took a few steps closer. The firelight made it even more visible.

“It is my special thing,” Glorfindel said proudly. 

Erestor blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“My special thing,” Glorfindel repeated. “Such as, your special thing is being one of the Valar, this is my special thing.” 

“No. No, Glorfindel. This is not your ‘special thing’. Your ‘special thing’ is having slain a balrog.”

“Fine. I have two special things, then,”Glorfindel reasoned. “I suppose that balances things out with yours. I mean, your special thing is pretty special.” 

Erestor stared at Glorfindel a little longer, and then went to bed. 

\--- 

Nothing more was said regarding Glorfindel and his ‘special thing’ until the day Orophin came to visit. 

It was not the first time Glorfindel walked past, but the second turn around the parlor that Orophin’s eye caught note of it and he could not help but to point at the golden elf that retreated. “What in the name of Arda was that?” 

“What was what?” questioned Galadriel as she sipped her tea. 

“That!” Orophin motioned more frantically toward the door, and then turned to look at Erestor. “Did you know about that?” 

“Know about it?” Erestor sighed and rubbed his forehead as if a headache was forming already. “I have to live with it.” 

“It is his ‘special thing’,” commented Celeborn, with a hint of envy in his voice. 

Orophin glanced at his grandfather and then back toward the door. “But... why?” 

“You are honestly better off not knowing,” Erestor assured him. “I went to visit Vilya and Melpomaen; I was gone for a month. I returned, and he had… that.” 

“Is it contagious?” joked Orophin, nudging Erestor. 

Erestor snorted. “I am much too old for such... nonsense.” 

“As am I,” Celeborn replied, the still wistful tone in his voice. 

\- - - 

“Elrond, I need your help.” Glorfindel leaned on the doorway into the room that Elrond set up as his workshop, his place for making his pottery. 

Slowly bringing the wheel to a stop, Elrond left the moist clay to set and wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “What do you need, my friend?” 

“I need you to... help me get rid of this,” he said, motioning to his ‘special thing’. 

Elrond frowned. “I thought it sort of suited you, Glorfindel.” 

There was a long sigh. “Erestor hates it.” 

“Mmm. I can sympathize. A few times when I was younger... well, Celebrian hates it, too,” he laughed. “Let me clean up, and I will meet you in the bathroom.” 

Glorfindel nodded and left the room. 

\- - - 

“Sweetheart?” 

Silence. 

“Erestor, darling?” 

A muffled greeting, a rustle of the sheets. 

Glorfindel smiled to himself, rubbed his chin- which he had not been able to do in quite a few weeks- and went to the bed. Crawling in under the sheets, he snuggled next to Erestor, rubbing his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. Erestor practically jumped out of his skin. 

“It... it...” Turning around to face the very calm, composed blond beside him, Erestor felt all over every inch of Glorfindel’s face. 

“I thought if I kept it long enough, you would end up liking it,” assumed Glorfindel. “I was wrong, so, now it is gone.” 

Erestor rubbed his fingertips over Glorfindel’s cheeks. “Is it going to come back?” There was a bit of sadness in his voice. 

“Constantly. But Elrond showed me what to do about it.” Glorfindel smiled leaning into Erestor’s touch. “Better now?” 

“I was starting to get used to it.” Touching his finger to Glorfindel’s lips, Erestor added, “I never even had a chance to kiss you with it.” 

“Oh, I can grow it back,” he was assured. “Trust me- it will not take long, either!” 

Biting his lip, Erestor suggested a compromise. “What if... you grow it in autumn and winter, and shave the beard when spring comes?” 

“Deal!” Glorfindel stuck out his hand, and with a chuckle, Erestor shook it. 

Leaning up, Erestor kissed Glorfindel’s currently smooth cheek. “I never mentioned it, but, congratulations on reaching your third cycle of life, Fin.”


End file.
